Tarnished Gem
by Caliente
Summary: [ON HIATUS] What if Jackie had the perfect life? Perfect family, perfect friends, perfect fiancée—perfect everything. The only thing missing is the only thing she's ever wanted: love. But is it really too late for her or does she still have a chance? –– Jackie/Kelso, Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna
1. Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:** So, I had an idea for a sort of… alternate universe. It's pretty much all explained in this first chapter, so… yeah. Just a different situation for our usual crowd. Also, I've named each chapter after a song from the 70's (at least, I _think_ they're from the 70's) a la the show. First up: Rock and a Hard Place by The Rolling Stones.  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own the 70's. Don't own the show. Yeah…

**Tarnished Gem**  
by, Caliente

**Chapter 1: Rock and a Hard Place**

Jaclyn Burkhart was a spoiled brat. She always had been and made no apologies. In fact, she was prone to saying, "If you were always given everything you'd ever wanted and were as cute as me, wouldn't you be?" No one argued with her. Few could. After all, she attended a posh, private all-girls university filled with people who she didn't even view as peers – how could they? She was rich, a cheerleader, beautiful… a triple threat. The gem of their fair institution. She had the perfect everything. Perfect life, perfect skills and, most importantly, perfect boyfriend.

Michael Kelso was the most amazingly handsome thing to ever grace their campus. From the moment the girls had first set eyes on him, they'd all known he was there for one reason and one reason only: Jackie. He wasn't that suave or debonair or any of the other million and one qualities that they would've expected for their gem but he was incredibly handsome and even more incredibly rich. One of the heirs to some sort of family fortune that was never discussed but simply known. They were perfect for each other in every superficial way possible.

They were the 'it' couple of the Madison elite. Everyone talked about how gorgeous their children would be and the incredible money-making merger their marriage would create for their parents companies. Michael would be given a cushy job within the company, despite his very obvious lack of intelligence, and Jackie would stay home with the children and the nanny. Their whole lives were mapped out for them from the moment they met to the day they said, "I do," and beyond. There was no worry. No question. It just… was.

Of course, not all was as perfect as it appeared. As legendary as Jackie was as a perfectly crafted gem of elegance, she was also famous (or, perhaps, infamous) for her overbearing nature and loud prissy whines. Anybody who questioned her was promptly squashed. And Michael, who was the dimmest of his siblings, also had a famously wandering eye. And hands. And every other body part. Girls could hardly resist him, even with the ninety-five pound ball and chain he carried around most of the times. No, despite all appearances to the contrary, this was not a fairytale marriage-to-be.

But that didn't matter. Like their parents before them, they weren't marrying for love. No, no, that was a privilege restricted to the poor. They were marrying for power, wealth and prestige. The honor of carrying the most handsome/beautiful being on their arm in exchange for everything they could have ever wanted in the world. Jackie would have Michael to provide for her once her father passed on and Michael would have someone of proper background to bear his (legitimate) children. Everyone would win. Everyone would have everything they'd ever dreamed of.

Except love. The one thing that Jaclyn Beulah Burkhart had ever wanted was the only thing she had always been denied. For a time, she'd thought she might love Michael Kelso. She tried to convince herself, repeatedly, that he was everything she'd ever wanted in a man. That he was the _one_. And that the growing pit in her stomach that grew with each passing day was nothing more than nervous energy about all the planning she would have to do once he popped the question. She'd almost had herself convinced, too.

Until she met her new roommate, Donna Pinciotti. Donna was everything that Jackie had never been or wanted. She was an incredibly tall girl who wore plaid when they weren't required to dress in uniform or according to a specific code and had _red_ hair. Red. As if the rest wasn't bad enough. She didn't wear make-up or care about clothing or matching or style or anything that mattered. She talked about things like feminism (a four-letter word to Jackie) and working and school as if they were actually important to her future. And, more than anything else, she talked about her boyfriend/fiancé, Eric Foreman.

It would be fair to say that Jackie liked her from the start. She didn't know why she liked her but she did. Maybe it was because they were so different. Or maybe it was that, through Donna, she was able to live vicariously. Because Donna had that one thing that Jackie had always wanted – she was completely and totally head-over-heels in love with the skinny string bean of a man who'd been her neighbor since she was six… and, even more incredibly, he loved her back. Not because Donna wasn't attractive, she was actually quite beautiful under the giant lumberjackness, but because Jackie had never seen a couple like that outside of the movies.

At night sometimes, after she and Donna had spoken about Eric and Michael and all their dreams of the future, Jackie would lie in bed and wonder why it was that the princess who had everything would cry herself to sleep over something so silly. So insignificant. Love. Who needed it? She had Michael and he would provide for her and she would give him children and they would live in a large mansion and everything would be just perfect. Just like Daddy had always told her they'd be. So she wouldn't have love – so what? She'd have money and power and lots of pretty things. And that would be enough.

She might've been able to convince a lot of people she believed that. Certainly all of her friends at the university (except maybe Donna) and her family and, hell, even Michael… but she could never convince herself. And it hurt. Every night. That pit in her stomach would contract and her heart would feel so heavy she thought it might break her chest with every beat. She couldn't stop it. Just like she couldn't stop the increasing frequency of her tears or the emptiness she felt whenever she realized that she'd always be alone. She'd have Michael, sure, just like she'd had her parents, but, in the end, she'd still be alone.

So, Jackie ran away. One night, she slipped out of her dorm and to the Lincoln Daddy had bought her and took off into the night. She didn't know where she was going or what she was doing; she just knew she couldn't sit another moment in that room feeling the way she felt. She drove and drove and drove, off into the night. Far, far away. To a place where they wouldn't know her. Where they wouldn't care that she'd just escaped from the university looking like her version of a hobo.

She ran all the way to a bar in Kenosha. She still didn't know what she was doing as she parked the Lincoln in the dingy parking lot and walked into the bar, suddenly very aware of her state of disarray. What would they think of her dressed in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt with Donny Osmond's face on it, her hair a mess and wearing no make-up? One look at the place told her they probably wouldn't think a damn thing. It was a dive and Jackie wrinkled her nose at the dingy walls and chairs. Could she even touch anything in there?

"What can I get you girl?" a rough voice asked her. Jackie jumped slightly to see an old bartender cleaning a glass behind the bar and inspecting her with more attention than she was comfortable with. Not that she wasn't used to attention but this kind was definitely unwanted. It was scrutiny, pure and simple, and no one (except her mother) was allowed to scrutinize her. She was Jaclyn Burkhart! Which, she supposed, was why she was there. "Are you even eighteen yet kid?"

"Of course I am!" Jackie replied almost instantly, hands on her hips with indignation. "Why would I come here if I wasn't?" Actually, the question she should be asking herself was why she'd come there at all. This place was disgusting and she was certain the floor had never been washed. Her slip-ons stuck to it slightly as she walked to the cleanest looking bar stool and sat down. Then she tried to smile, despite the disgustingness of the situation. She was already unhappy enough; she didn't need to do battle with some old, dumb bartender. "Do you want to see my ID?"

"Nah, it's fine," another voice told her. She glanced toward it and saw a younger bartender, closer to her age, with curly hair and sunglasses (Who wore sunglasses _inside_? And at _night_? Honestly!) looking her way with a neutral expression. Jackie decided, almost instantly, she didn't like him. And it wasn't just because he seemed to have no visible interest in her – she couldn't exactly blame him given how she looked at the moment. No, it was more the fact that she couldn't really read him. That would irritate her to no end. "So…?"

Jackie blinked. A drink. Right. Normally, she would get something posh, like a glass of really good wine or one of those cute little drinks with umbrellas and fruit and whatnot. Especially when she was dressed cute, then she always ordered drinks to match her outfits. But tonight… tonight wasn't about that. She wasn't even sure what it was about. All she knew was she wanted something un-Jackie-like. Something that would have her mother absolutely horrified. "I'll have a beer."

The curly-haired bartender simply nodded at her request. No questions. No odd looks. No nothing. It was almost enough to make Jackie smile. Almost. "Good choice." Since she didn't specify which kind of beer she wanted, and he doubted she'd know one from another anyway, he poured her a glass from the tap. Simple, easy and not involving much of an effort from him, just the way he liked it. He placed the beer in front of her and she stared at it for a long moment. "Anything else for you?"

She started to say no but stopped herself and thought about the question for a long moment. Biting her lip slightly, her dim eyes regained the smallest fraction of the sparkle they usually held. "Do you… do you have any food?" she asked in a tone that sort of made her seem like a bad child asking for candy when they knew they shouldn't. Jackie didn't care. It was late and she wanted something salty or sweet or… fattening to go with her very first beer. "Like chips or something?"

Quirking an eyebrow at her for a moment, the bartender nodded again. "Sure, we have pork rinds and peanuts." Usually, they only brought that stuff out for football and hockey games but if this chick wanted something to eat, he wasn't gonna stop her. She looked like she could use it. And an adjustment in music tastes. Donny Osmond was just cruel and unusual. Made his skin crawl, just seeing his face, even when it was plastered on an incredibly hot girl. Or maybe that was especially. He pulled a bowl of each out from under the counter and placed them in front of her. "That it?"

Still biting her lip slightly, though now it was more to keep from cringing at the thought of just who might've touched those nuts and rinds before her, she nodded lightly. "For now, yeah." Then, she did something she hardly ever did. "Thanks…" she trailed off when she realized she didn't know the bartender's name. She finished with an, "I appreciate it," instead. Manners, she'd learned long ago, were reserved only for peers and no one less. Certainly not the help. But, at that moment, she just didn't care that much. About anything, really.

About five rounds later, Jackie had decided that she not only loved beer but also peanuts and pork rinds. "They're just so… so… salty!" she was saying, a big grin on her face. "And yummy. I don't know why I don't eat them all the time. I mean, sure, my school has gourmet food but these are _sooo_ much better than that! And you can eat them with your hands! Isn't that amazing? I love eating with my hands. And drinking beer. It's good too. Can you believe I never had any before? S'not lady-like enough, I guess. Hey, can I have another? Please?"

"No," the bartender answered, "I think you've had enough." She'd been rambling on and on for some time and his head was starting to throb. Damn job. Too bad the Fotohut had gone all to hell… there were really about a million other things he'd rather do than listen to Jaclyn Burkhart (she'd told him her name about an hour ago) go on and on and on about being rich and how hard it was and how much she loved beer and salty foods. He handed her another drink – a hangover killer. "Drink this instead."

She did as he asked, chugging about half of it before spitting some of it back into the cup. "Eugh! This tastes like tar! Are you trying to poison me!" Her tone was high pitched and whiny and, amazingly, even more annoying than the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. Now that was skill. "Oh…" Uh-oh. That didn't feel right. She grabbed her forehead as the room spun all around her. "I don't feel so good…" She looked at him, panicked. "Where – where's the bathroom?" He pointed and she raced off, slamming the door behind her.

After a few minutes of unloading the contents of her stomach, Jackie reemerged with an incredibly embarrassed look on her face. "Um, I'm really sorry," she apologized to the curly-haired bartender. His partner had left about half an hour earlier. "I'm not normally like this. Really. I know you probably hear that a lot but I'm not. I swear." Tonight had been a mistake. A big, big, big mistake. Obviously, the life she had was the one she was meant to have. This just wasn't her. She blushed heavily, avoiding his gaze as she started to pull out her wallet.

"Sit," the bartender instructed in a tone that brokered no argument, placing another glass in front of her. "Drink that," he pointed to it and she managed to identify it as water, "then drink more of this," he pointed to the hangover killer again, "then I might just let you drive home. Maybe." The princess, annoying as she was, wasn't going to die on his watch. Not even she deserved that. And neither would any of the other drivers on the road.

Jackie furrowed her brows but followed his instruction. She wasn't used to anyone bossing her around. Not even her parents tried anymore. It was kind of nice to know that someone cared, even if it wasn't anything more than a job requirement. But, at any rate, she had more important things to worry about at that moment. "Ew, my mouth tastes like butt," she complained as she drank the water. Oh, if her mother could hear her now. Butt. She'd die on the spot, Jackie was sure. "What the hell did you put in that last drink anyway?"

He quirked an eyebrow at the butt comment but let it slide and focused on her question instead. "Secret recipe," was all he'd offer. Even at her annoying prodding, he just shrugged it off. "I just know it works," he continued after a few minutes of whining. "First-hand." So, with a scowl, she drank it as quickly as humanly possible. Because… ew. Seriously. The butt taste, yeah that wasn't going away. Talk about a bummer. What she wouldn't give for a breath mint right then.

"Well…" she started after a long moment, slowly rising and throwing a fifty dollar bill on the counter, "thanks, I guess." It still felt weird, thanking him. But she figured if he hadn't deserved it before, he did now. And Jackie, bitchy as she was, did have the ability to appreciate when someone, even a poor someone, helped her. Standing up slowly, she headed toward door, ignoring the gaze of the few lingering patrons of the dingy little bar.

"No problem," the bartender responded, picking up her bill and smiling a little to himself. See, there was some karma. He'd been nice to the rich priss and now he had a big enough tip to splurge on the new Zeppelin album. "You be safe kid," he added absent-mindedly after her. She probably shouldn't be driving yet but she'd seemed coherent enough as she kept up the constant complaining and, well, he really didn't want her hanging around anymore. Better she go back to wherever she'd come from (and take that damn Donny with her).

"Yeah," she murmured under her breath as she pushed her way into the cold nighttime air. It was very late now and Jackie knew she'd hate herself in the morning because she had class at 8am but none of that mattered. None of anything mattered, really. Her whole life had been planned out for her and she still didn't know how to cope. This bar thing obviously wasn't the answer, since all that'd gotten her was a splitting headache and a nasty taste in her mouth. Running away probably wouldn't prove any better. What would she do without her pretty things? Without people to love and adore her…?

Jackie didn't have any more answers then when she'd left campus but she did have one thing – a new determination. One way or another she was going to figure out how to make her life something that she could stand living again. Maybe living with an Amazon like Donna was rubbing off on her or something. She'd never felt so independent or… or… tough before! If she hadn't already gone out drinking, it would've been a moment to celebrate. But, for now, she'd settle for a few hours in her warm bed and the weekend to look forward to.

She was going home with Donna to meet Eric and their friends. She'd met Mr. and Mrs. Pinciotti a handful of times and her father, who had repeatedly hit on the latter, had warned her as many times that they were not the type of people to associate with. Mr. Pinciotti owned his own business but it was far too small-scale for the likes of them. "And they live in _Point Place_," her mother had added before heading to the open bar. "Do you know what kinds of people live there?"

It'd been a rhetorical question but, if the Pinciotti family was any indication, they were good people. Maybe a little poor and, yeah, some were probably of the white trash variety but Jackie didn't care. For once in her life, she was going to meet _normal_ people who weren't going to look at her like the perfect gem that needed protection and love and adoring. Not that she minded most of the time – they ought to worship her. But, maybe, just maybe, this would be good too. She had hope, anyway, and that was more than she'd had in a long time…

_To be continued…

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So, lemme know what you think! Like it, hate it… no, actually, just that first one. ;)


	2. Miss America

**Author's Note:** First of all, I want to thank all of my reviewers! You guys are amazing. Seriously. I'm in awe of all the wonderful things you've said to me. It… really means a lot to me. Oh, and if anyone knows anyone who'd like to Beta That 70's fics for me, I'd be most appreciative. Uhm, yeah. Anyway, I don't think there's too much to say about this chapter other than we get to meet Eric! And, this chapter's song is Miss America by Styx.  
**Disclaimer:** Still applies.

**Tarnished Gem**  
by, Caliente

**Chapter 2: Miss America**

"Ew, it's dirty!" Jackie cried as Donna led her down the outside stairs and through the door into the basement she'd told her belonged to her boyfriend, Eric Foreman. "I mean, has it ever been cleaned before?" Why didn't these people just hire a maid or something? Or… burn it down and start over? "And – ohmigod! Did… did something just move over there…?" She pointed worriedly toward the pile of junk behind the television, while half-hiding behind Donna's larger form.

Donna rolled her eyes. This weekend was already long and it was still Friday afternoon. But she'd thought a trip to Point Place might be good for Jackie. Something was going on with that girl and, despite her better judgment, Donna was worried. She couldn't help it. Somewhere between the complaining and the lumberjack comments, she'd genuinely started to like the girl. Even care about her. And about what happened to her. It was so weird. "Nothing moved you drama queen," Donna replied, shaking her head. "Chill and sit down."

Jackie gasped. "On that?" she pointed to the dingy couch, absolutely horrified. "No way! Who knows what kinds of _things_ could be lurking in there? I mean, it might've absorbed something like – like – asbestos or whatever that stuff is called. I'm not sitting there." She crossed her arms defiantly, lips in a firm line as if she dared Donna to question her decision. It was icky and it was not happening. Yes, she was being a princess. It was who she was. Donna knew this. She was going to have to deal.

"Fine," Donna responded with a shrug, sitting on the couch and grabbing a magazine that'd been lying on the table. "You can stand. I don't care." She glanced up at Jackie again. "But, please, at least try to be nice when Eric comes down. I warned him about you, but I don't think he believed me." Poor bastard. What a shock he was going to be in for.

"Warned him about me?" Jackie was clearly offended, her hands on her hips as her voice rose into a whine-like cry. Then, realization seemed to hit and she smirked lightly. "Oooh, about my incredible beauty. Yeah, I can see why you'd be insecure." She moved to sit on the chair on the far side of the room, away from the outside entrance to the basement. "I mean, look at you, then look at me. It makes perfect sense." She smiled, satisfied with her own reasoning, and also picked up a magazine. Too bad there wasn't any Cosmo…

Shacking her head lightly, Donna tried not to laugh. "Right. That's exactly it Jackie." The other girl smiled triumphantly and, together, they continued to read their magazines. Every so often, they'd quiz each other on 'The Ten Ways to Make Sure He's The One' and 'How to Make Him Want to Want You' and other things of a similar nature. All in all, not that unusual from what they'd be doing in the dorms about that time on a normal Friday.

After some time had passed, an unfamiliar voice floated down to the basement. "What about the girl from Tuesday night? She ever come back?"

"The princess?" another, slightly familiar voice asked. "Nah, I don't think she'll ever come back. Probably too embarrassed or proud. Plus, if Daddy found out, I'm sure he'd take away the car and lock her back in her tower or whatever."

There was laughter, which increased significantly in volume when the other door opened and a pair of feet clomped downstairs. Jackie, eyes wide with a mixture of worry and fear, stared at her magazine in shock. She quickly pleaded her case with God, praying that they were not talking about what she thought they were talking about. (The bartender she hazily remembered did not resemble the pictures of Eric Forman she'd seen in the slightest, so there was that.) Donna, on the other hand, continued to flip through her magazine without even glancing up or acknowledging that she'd even heard the voices.

"Well, well, well," the first voice started, a grin already evident in his tone alone, "what do have here? Breaking and entering Miss Pinciotti?" Jackie finally spared a glance at the speaker, now standing behind Donna, and was relieved to see that Eric did in fact look like his scrawny pictures indicated. "I think I'll have to collect a fine from you for that one. Maybe a few rounds of –"

"Eric!" Donna interrupted. "Uhm, have you met my roommate Jackie?" She hit his shoulder not quite lightly. "The roommate I _told_ you I was bringing home this weekend, remember?" Her voice was slightly terse but the corner of her mouth were pointing up. Eric knew he wasn't in any real trouble. Yet.

Turning to get a good look at her (And why shouldn't he? She _did_ look good, if she did say so herself. Wearing only the latest fashions and having perfectly coiffed hair did that for a girl, especially one as cute as her.), Eric nodded lightly. "Right, right. Roommate Jackie. I remember." He smiled a friendly smile at her and moved closer to offer his hand to her. "I'm Eric Foreman, it's great to meet you. Donna has said… so much about you."

Jackie shook his hand, a brilliantly wide smile on her face. "Oh, she shouldn't have," she gushed happily. The best conversations always _did_ revolve around her. At least, that's what Daddy had constantly reassured her. And, even if he didn't know some things (like how to be a good father), that much he'd gotten right. "Did she tell you I'm a cheerleader? And shoe in for captain next year, even though I'm only going to be a third year?"

"You know," Eric bit back a laugh, "I think she might've left that part out." Jackie scoffed at Donna and shook her head but chose not to comment. She still hadn't seen the person the second voice belonged to (he'd moved behind her before she caught a glance) and that was even more concerning than the lack of Jackie-centric conversation. "Say… Hyde," Eric's gaze moved behind Jackie and she squirmed in the chair trying to see, "wasn't the bar girl's name Jackie?"

Hyde turned around with a popsicle he'd grabbed from the freezer behind her and Jackie finally got a good look at his face. Oh, crap. It was him. Eyes wide with panic, for the first time in her life, she was absolutely speechless. Her lips moved a little but no sound came out. He cast a quick glance at her, then looked back at Eric. "No man," he answered easily. "I said Jack E., as in Jack Eaton, was trying to hit on her but chickened out. I don't know the bar girl's name. Didn't ask." That said, he popped the popsicle in his mouth and moved to sit on the far side of the couch, since his normal seat was taken.

There was the briefest pause, in which Jackie held her breath and continued her bargaining with God. (She'd always known not going to church would come back to bite her in the butt.) "Right." Eric sounded unconvinced but shrugged it off, sitting in the middle of the couch, between his girlfriend and his friend, placing his arm loosely behind the former. "By the way Jackie, this is Hyde," he indicated the curly-haired boy to his left with his free hand. "He lives here too."

"Oh," she responded in a quieter-than-normal tone. "That's… nice…" The gem wasn't sure what to say, exactly. These sorts of situations weren't the usual kind she found herself in. Privileged people rarely, if ever, simply 'hung out' like this. It was… quaint, she supposed. "It's good to meet you Hyde." He nodded without more than the smallest glance in her direction. And that irritated her. No one ignored Jaclyn Burkhart! Except, well, maybe it was a good thing? She wasn't sure. "What kind of name is Hyde?" she asked suddenly, her mouth moving without the approval of her brain, as was often the case.

Donna suppressed a laugh. "A last name," she answered for the man who, judging by the look on his face, was beginning to regret covering for Jackie. Oops. Apparently that big mouth could get her in trouble when people weren't bending over backwards to do her bidding. "His first name is… uh…" Donna trailed off, brows furrowed together as she tried to remember. "Steven!" she cried, all of a sudden. That was what Mrs. Foreman always called him. Steven, yeah.

It was Jackie's turn to furrow her eyebrows. "Steven?" she repeated. "Then why not go by Steve or something? I mean, _Hyde_? It sounds so… so… so much like the evil alter ego of a doctor or something!" Okay, so in retrospect, maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to say. But, c'mon. Hyde? Seriously? What a weirdo kinda name. She just didn't understand it.

"Yeah, well, Jackie is pretty damn close to Jekyll, wouldn't you say?" Hyde replied simply. "I'd say that's about accurate." At Jackie's confused look, he rolled his eyes. "Man created the monster, right? Well, with your annoying whine of a voice, you must do the same." Picking up a magazine, he sat back and crossed his legs, obviously finished with their conversation.

A shocked look on her face, Jackie spluttered at him. How dare he? How _dare_ he? Didn't he realize who she was? No one spoke to a Burkhart like that – no one! She could ruin him with a simple phone call! And – and – God! Who did he think he was? Steven Hyde. Pffft. A nobody. A nothing. A _commoner_. And a bartender. Those men were bottom feeders. He was nothing. Absolutely nothing. But, try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from sinking to his level. "Yeah?" she said hotly, eyes flashing. "Well, you're hairy enough to be Hyde, so I guess it wasn't a long trip to get there."

Hyde raised an eyebrow at her, torn between annoyance and amusement, settling on the Zen expression he was famous for. Who did this stupid chick think she was? He'd helped her out and she was insulting him? What a jerk! She really was everything he'd thought she was. Everything he hated. "Well, not all of us feel the need to spend hours primping in front of a mirror princess. Some of us have real lives and real jobs to do. We're not all rich, spoiled brats."

Jackie let out an offended noise. "I do not spend hours primping, thank you very much!" She ignored what sounded like Donna scoffing. "Most of this is natural beauty." And another one. Damn her, that stupid lumberjack was supposed to be on her side! "Besides, at least I know a thing or two about proper hygiene." She pointed to Hyde's beard and grimaced. "I think I saw something moving in there." She sniffed loudly. "And do you even shower? I mean, seriously. Ew."

Eric and Donna watched them both with amusement painted all over their faces. Never before had either of them seen two people dislike each other so instantly. It was actually quite amazing. And they didn't want to miss a moment of it. Unfortunately for them, Mrs. Foreman called down at that moment. "Eric, Donna, would you two come help me with something? It'll only take a minute…"

With identical sighs and a shared, slightly nervous glance, the couple got up. "Yeah Mom, we'll be there in a sec!" Eric hollered up the stairs, leading Donna in that direction. He paused. "Hey man," he called to Hyde, "don't kill her, okay? I don't think Red would like bailing you out again…"

"That goes double for you!" Donna added sternly to Jackie with a wag of her finger. "Not even 'Daddy' could make a murder go away. I know you think he can… but he can't. Remember that." With that, they clomped the rest of the way up the stairs to help Mrs. Foreman.

Jackie sat quietly, staring at Steven Hyde for a very long moment. He was ignoring her, reading his magazine (looked like some car thing or another from her angle) with a neutral look on his face. She stared, he ignored. Stared, ignored. Finally, he put the magazine down and looked directly at her. "What?" he asked finally in a tone that betrayed no emotion.

"I just… I-just-wanted-to-thank-you-for-not-telling-Eric-and-Donna-it-was-me," she blurted out in one breath. She didn't know if she would've been able to face them, especially Eric who she'd never met before, if he had. Jackie Burkhart wasn't the kind of girl to be seen looking less than perfect. And she certainly wasn't the kind of girl to frequent dingy bars or drink beer or get drunk or throw up or… well, anything she'd done that night. Except talk. She was definitely the kind of girl to talk.

Hyde blinked at her. "Got a funny way of showing it," he replied, picking up his magazine again. "But don't worry about it. Think of it as bartender/drunk confidentiality or something." He shrugged. Wasn't like he cared. He didn't know her from the next hobo on the street and, honestly, if this was the last time he ever saw her, the more the better. For a small thing, she sure was loud and annoying. Very annoying. Negated all her hotness.

"I'm not normally like that," she continued and Hyde sighed. Didn't she get that he didn't want her to talk? What was hard to understand about that? No more talking from the annoying pixie in _his_ chair, thanks. And he was off-duty. But, apparently, she didn't understand because she was rambling about _something_ yet again and he was having trouble tuning her out. She was seriously threatening to usurp Eric's evil sister Laurie's position at the top of his most likely to be devil spawned list. "…the truth, you know? And, I just…"

Holding up a hand, Hyde closed his eyes and summoned all the strength he could muster. "I'm sorry, I think you've confused me with someone who cares. See, the other night, they pay me to listen to you. But now – no money, no listen. So, why don't you just go back to reading your girly magazine and leave me alone." She opened her mouth again but he shook his head. "Or, if that's too hard for you, I'll go." He grabbed his magazine and stood up, giving her a quick look. "I'd like to say it was nice to see you again, but I try not to make it a habit to lie." Without another word, he walked into a room at the back of the basement she hadn't seen before and shut the door.

"Well, I never!" Jackie muttered indignantly under her breath. Nobody had ever just walked away from her before! (Except her mother but that was usually for an open bar.) Didn't he know how lucky he was to have her, Jaclyn _Burkhart_, talking with him! The scruffy man should've been counting his blessings instead of insulting her and then retreating to his dank room! Honestly! It was almost too much for her to comprehend. It just made no sense. Steven Hyde made no sense. He was obviously certifiably insane. Or maybe that's just what poor people did? Hard to say really…

"Where's Hyde?" Donna asked as she led Eric back down to the basement, a confused look on her face. "Jackie! I told you not to kill him! Where'd you hide the body?" She glanced around the room for a moment before stopping. "Actually, I'd like to know how you go the body out of here… you're only five three and ninety-five pounds."

Mortified, Jackie cried, "Donna!" loudly. "How dare you tell my weight! Is nothing sacred in the wretched place?" Donna looked at her like she'd grown a second head and Eric looked offended. "And Steven went into a room back there." She pointed to where she'd last seen him. "So can we go somewhere not dirty now? I don't want my clothes to get ruined or anything. Plus, you promised me a mall. And, you know I have Daddy's credit cards, so…"

"Fine Jackie," Donna relented. "We'll go to the mall. _But_, only if you promise to do two things for me." Jackie raised her eyebrows but chose not to comment. Yet. "One, stop complaining about everything. This is where I'm from and if you don't cut it out, I'm going to start to be offended. And," she continued quickly, seeing Jackie open her mouth, "two, come back here tomorrow. Because this is where we hang out. And I'm not changing that just because you came for a visit." She crossed her arms and stared down her short friend.

Jackie held Donna's gaze for as long as she could before finally relenting. "Fine, fine!" She pouted. "But now we _definitely_ have to go to the mall, so I can buy some 'slumming it' clothes. You know, things I can burn after this weekend's over and not miss at all." She stood and dusted off her butt lightly. "I'll go wait for you in the driveway," she added knowingly, smiling lightly at Eric. "I know how much you missed him. Don't know why but I know you did." With that, she skipped out the way they'd entered not too long before.

"I'm sorry," Eric commented in a sarcastic voice, "I thought you were bringing your _friend_ Jackie home this weekend. But all I've seen so far is what can only be described as Satan's most spoiled daughter." Donna slapped his shoulder and tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh. "I'm serious Donna. What is wrong with that girl? She's so… so…"

"Rich? Spoiled? Annoying?" Donna supplied with an understanding look. "Yeah, I know. I still can't believe I don't hate her, myself. But… something about her just grows on you. She might be loud and crass and, at times, cruel but… she puts herself out there. She's vulnerable when you least expect it about the simplest things. She's kind of like a little girl that you want to protect. I can't explain it." She shrugged lightly. "She's just had a harder life than you realize."

Eric scoffed. "Yeah, she grew up rich in Madison. She's heir apparent to her father's fortune and she's marrying an equally rich and beautiful man. I can really see where her life would be hard." He rolled his eyes, dodging Donna's attempt to whack him again. "Uh-uh-uh," he scolded lightly, a small smile on his face. "You heard Jackie. You've missed me. There's no denying it now. Don't you want to show me how much…?"

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she smiled back at him. "Well, it _would_ help fortify me for what will undoubtedly be a long and arduous trip to the mall…" She leaned closer. "But wouldn't you rather show me how much you missed m–?" She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. Her smile grew wider. Yeah, it was good to be home.

_To be continued…

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_

Uhm, yeah. Reviews are, as stated above, loved. Muchly. So… :coughs: Keep it up. ;)


	3. Down on Me

**Author's Note: **First and foremost, thanks to my brand new beta! YouThinkYouNoeMe, you're my hero. :D Secondly, the reviewers. Again, you guys blow me away. I'm flattered, like, whoa. Red and Kitty make their first real appearances this chapter and there's lots of fun dumbassness. (In case anyone's wondering, yes, Fez and Kelso will be appearing but not until chapter five or six, at least.) This chapter's song is Down on Me by Janis Joplin. Also, due to vacationing badness, I may or may not be able to post until after the New Year. So, massive apologies in advance. And, I believe that's all. Enjoy!  
**Disclaimer: **Check the first chapter!

**Tarnished Gem**  
by, Caliente

**Chapter 3: Down on Me**

"But Donna," Jackie whined loudly, stamping her foot and crossing her arms in a perfect picture of spoiled princess, "I don't wanna go back over there! It's smelly and dank and dark and I don't think Eric and Steven like me very much. And, since I'm so amazing, there must be something wrong with them. Like, I don't know, maybe they hang out too much in a dark, dank, smelly basement! And –"

"Zip it Jackie," Donna interrupted finally. She'd had about all she could take of the whining. "You _promised_. And, if you don't come with me, then we're not going to the drive in later. And by 'we', I mean you. Because Eric and I are definitely going." Nothing, not nothing, was going to stop them, damn it. "So, you'll be stuck here _alone_ on a Saturday night." Jackie made a noise like she didn't care. "And wouldn't your friends back at the university just _love_ to know that…?"

Damn it! Jackie stamped her foot again and pouted some more but to no avail. She knew Donna had won. Stupid plaid-wearing Amazon. Damn, damn, damn her. "Fine!" Jackie spun around and marched back into the guest room. "But I'm not going in this outfit – it's from Milan. Just let me change into something from that little so-called mall we went to yesterday and then we can go." She pulled on a pair of designer jeans and a cute little designer shirt with pink and white stripes. Slipping on a pair of impossibly clean white tennis shoes, she smiled at Donna. "Okay, we can go now."

After shooting her a look, Donna rolled her eyes and just shook her head. "Good… you weirdo," she added quietly under her breath. The more time they wasted there, the less time she'd have with Eric. And that just was not okay. Because she loved Eric and… yeah. It was time to go.

* * *

"She's coming back here?" Hyde asked, a surprised and assuredly displeased look on his face as he poked half-heartedly at the remainder of his breakfast. "Why?" He paused. "No, wait, better question: Why didn't you warn me yesterday? I could've taken another shift at the hotel. Or moved out of the state. Or jumped off a cliff. But, no. Now I'll have to find some way to get the f–" Just in time, he remembered to censor himself. Red and Kitty would not be pleased if he swore at the breakfast table. "…outta dodge." 

"Steven!" Mrs. Foreman admonished lightly, despite the censorship. "That is not a very nice thing to say. I'm sure this girl is very nice." She laughed in her own unique (and only slightly annoying) way. "A debutante from Madison. A _Burkhart_. Here." Another, more nervous laugh. "I should make pie. Do you think she likes pie? Of course she likes pie. Everyone likes pie…" She hopped up and began bustling around the kitchen.

Without looking up from his paper, Red sighed. "Look what you've done," he said to the boys. "Now she'll be cooking all day and if that Burkhart girl doesn't eat or like her pie, who's going to have to listen to her cry? Me." He looked over his paper at them. "Dumbasses." Shaking his head, he added, "And, you're not going anywhere, Steven. You promised you'd help me with the yard work later."

Eric almost objected to that but caught himself, smiling instead. Oh yeah, for once his un-manliness was going to benefit him! And he'd be able to spend more time with Donna. Granted, Jackie would probably be there too, but, hell, maybe if he gave her something shiny, she'd play with it and leave them alone or something. She'd seemed sensitive enough to their, er, _needs_ yesterday, anyway. Kind of. In a weird spoiled, it's-all-about-me way.

"What're you smiling about?" Red barked, pulling Eric from his thoughts and nearly causing him to leap out of his chair. He peered closer at his son. "Are you on dope?" Eric furrowed his brows with a slightly horrified look on his face and Red sighed, snapping his paper once and peering over it at his son. "Am I going to have to stick my foot up your ass again?"

Hyde snorted. "That might explain the whole drug thing…" he commented off-handedly. Noticing the horrified looks on the Forman's faces, he quickly changed his tune. "Er, I mean, bad Eric! Bad!" Yeah, still with the looks. "O-kay, I'm done now. I'm going to go down to the basement. Hopefully Lady Jekyll won't be willing to set foot down there again. Since it's probably too 'icky' for her or something." He shook his head and rolled his eyes, heading toward the door to the basement.

"Don't forget the yard!" Red yelled after him, shaking his head before looking at Eric again. "And you – wipe that grin off your face. You still have to clean out the garage. And, if you ever want to drive the Vista Cruiser again, you better do it today." That wiped the smile off Eric's face and he returned his attention to his breakfast with a decidedly smaller appetite. Cleaning would definitely cut into his Donna-time. Man! This… sucked!

* * *

"You know, you can pay people to do that for you," Jackie commented as she watched Hyde trimming the hedges. She and Donna had come over shortly after he'd left the table and Mrs. Foreman had been nice enough to feed them. Then, they'd headed down to the basement and watched The Price is Right (a horribly boring show but something to do while her companions made doe eyes at each other), until Mr. Foreman had started yelling for Steven and Eric to come up and start helping with chores. Now Donna was helping Eric with the garage and Jackie was… supervising Steven in the garden. 

Hyde growled low in his throat. No wonder Red had excused himself from their company a whole ten minutes ago. If he had to listen to this chick yap for another second he was going to be forced to stab something other than the hedge with his trimming shears, preferably her or himself. "Look, why don't you go bug Foreman or Big D?" he suggested with false enthusiasm.

Rolling her eyes, Jackie pointed to the garage. "See how the door is down," she said in a tone that clearly implied that she thought he was an idiot. "I seriously doubt they're doing any kind of cleaning in there. And, I don't want any part of that." Big fat ew there. They probably had gross sex, all humpy and jumbled and… ew. Definitely ew. She blocked the images from her mind and considered the hedge again. "Hey, you know what you should do? Cut it in the shape of an animal! Oh – I know! A puppy! No, a kitty! No, pony! No – unicorn! Yeah! You should make it into a unicorn." She nodded seriously.

"Unicorn," Hyde repeated slowly, turning to look at her with a mixture of feelings coursing through him –confusion, annoyance, exhaustion and inspiration to commit homicide being just a few of them. "Right. I'll be sure to get right on that." His tone was obviously sarcastic but Jackie was oblivious as she grinned at him. "Just as soon as I finish forming the begonias into a heart shape and I spray paint all the leaves pink."

Her face dropped and Jackie glared at him. "You know, you don't have to be mean about it," she huffed lightly. "I mean, I'm not even complaining about being stuck in this nothing town with a scruffy bartender who lives in a dingy _basement_." She crossed her arms and looked at him in a way that told him she obviously thought she was giving him some kind of blessed gift. "And I'm gracing you with my presence. What more could you want?"

"Sweet, sweet death," he answered dryly. Putting the shears down, just in case, he peered down at her. "Look, I think we're having a failure to communicate here, so I'm gonna help you out." He pointed to himself, "I," he shook his head, "don't like," he pointed to her, "you." Hyde crossed his arms. "I don't want to listen to you talk. I don't want to be 'graced with your presence'. I don't even want to share your oxygen. I just want you to go back to living in whatever la-la land you came from and to leave me alone." He looked at her from behind his glasses. "Have I made myself clear?"

Jackie felt like she'd been hit in the gut by a two-by-four. No one had ever spoken to her like that. Sure, sometimes she heard the girls make catty remarks behind her back and, yeah, sometimes Donna made smart comments but… nothing like that. Without her permission, her eyes welled with tears and she involuntarily sniffled. Why did she even care? He was poor. He was scruffy. He was a loser. But, for whatever reason, she did. And she'd be damned before she let him see her cry. "Crystal," she managed to choke out before turning tail and racing back to the Pinciotti's house, bursting into tears the moment she was safely back in the guest room.

Staring after her for a long moment, Hyde frowned. "Damn it," he muttered, shaking his head. Well, that had gone well. Sure, he'd gotten rid of her. But he'd made her cry. If there was one thing Hyde couldn't take, it was a crying girl. Especially when he was the cause. He felt like dirt. Lower than dirt. Didn't matter that Jackie was a bitch and a half, he was still a jerk. "Dumbass," he scolded to himself.

"Who?" Eric asked with a satisfied smile on his face as he walked over to where Hyde was standing next to the discarded shears, his arm lazily wrapped around Donna's shoulders. Oh yeah, they'd had sex. If Foreman's expression wasn't enough, Donna's flush and the way their clothes were rumpled was a dead giveaway. Apparently, Jackie'd been right about one thing. So she wasn't as dumb as she looked.

Hyde sighed, running a hand through his hair. Damn, damn, damn. "Me," he replied with a frown. And a glare telling Eric not to press any further.

Unfortunately, Donna chose to ignore that look. Unlike her boyfriend, she wasn't afraid of Hyde. It helped that he didn't hit girls. "What'd you do this time?" Her tone was light and teasing until she noticed the absence of her small but loud friend. "And where's Jackie?" She cast a few glances around just to make sure she hadn't missed her someone. "Hyde! Eric told you not to kill her! Her parents have money, you know. They could make you disappear…"

"Shut up," he growled. "I didn't kill her. I just…" The couple looked at him expectantly and he sighed again. "…made her cry, okay?" He glared at the ground and braced himself for their reactions. It was going to be ugly.

And he was right. "You what?" Eric cried, a shocked look on his face. While Donna's eyes simultaneously widened and she yelled, "You jerk!" hitting him hard in the shoulder. They both stood, waiting for him to explain, Donna preparing to hit him again if need be.

"Ow!" he yelped, before holding his hands up in defeat. "Look, you're right. I'm a jerk. I didn't mean to do it." Seeing their unconvinced expressions, he glared at both of them. "Really." Apparently he wasn't the only dumbass around there. Did they honestly think he'd make a girl cry on purpose? He wasn't six anymore and this wasn't a damn school playground. But damn. Seriously. He'd fucked this one up.

Eric seemed to accept what he'd said and shrug it off. Hyde being Hyde or something to that extent. Plus, Jackie was pretty annoying, so he didn't really blame the guy. Donna, on the other hand, was not so forgiving. Not by a long shot. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" she asked, her fist still prepared should he give an answer she didn't like. Dumbass. Didn't he realize Jackie wasn't like them? She wasn't used to constant burns and insults unless she was the one giving them. And, yeah, it could get annoying but there was definitely a line. Hyde obviously crossed it. And he better damn well fix it because she wasn't going to try and tell the Burkharts she'd somehow broken their daughter. God, such a dumbass.

"Do about it?" Hyde repeated slowly. 'Nothing' was the first answer that came to mind but, seeing the look on Donna's face and remembering that he couldn't hit girls back, he quickly decided against that one. "Uh… apologize to her, of course," he answered in a monotone. Damn it. Now he had to deal with crying girl. And, very possible, Red threatening boot-up-assage for not finishing the yard first. How did he get himself into these situations? Foreman. It was definitely Foreman. Something about him, man… he was like a frickin' jinx.

"Good," Donna said stiffly, arms crossed as she waited for him to leave. Eric glanced at his girlfriend with only a little bit of fear in his eyes (at least her crazy redheaded wrath wasn't directed at him for once), then at his best friend with a sympathetic look. Sucked to be him. But, another glance at angry Donna, better Hyde then him. Hell, maybe he could get her to do that thing in bed he'd been wanting to do while she was in an angry haze… Yet another glance at her told him that he'd be dumb to try, lest she turn said wrath onto him.

Nodding, Hyde put the shears down, dusted his hands and headed from the yard toward the Pinciotti residence. He let himself in after a light knock and no response, eager to get this thing over with. Crying girls. His one weakness. Even if Donna hadn't forced him, he probably would've come over himself. Well, maybe. Kinda hard to say, actually. Once he caught sight of the girl, though, he knew the truth. Nothing would've stopped him from making sure she was all right. He was the cause of her pain; it was his responsibility to make sure she was okay. No matter how much he didn't want to…

Hyde knocked lightly on her door, which was slightly ajar, and let himself in. Jackie quickly wiped her eyes, as if afraid to let anyone see her look less than perfect, and looked up to see Hyde enter. Her wide eyes narrowed instantly and she crossed her arms at him. "Oh, it's you," she sniffed, lips in a firm, angry line. "Take a wrong turn somewhere? Because, if I remember correctly, you didn't even want to share the same oxygen as me. I promise, though, I'll only leave you carbon dioxide."

Her tone was as cold as ice, her eyes reflecting feelings much the same. There were no more tears, at least, which was a small comfort to Hyde. A very small comfort. "Look," he rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly, his eyes on the ground, "I'm sorry I made you cry, okay? I didn't mean to. I was just annoyed." He looked at her. "You're very annoying, you know."

"You call that an apology!" Jackie was aghast. He – she – just… gah! What the hell! "Are you serious! That was _not_ an apology. You just insulted me! Again!" She glared harder at him. Like she needed this. Puh-lease. "Look, I don't care, anyway, okay? I mean, it's not like I like you either." Scruffy, poor, bartender. That said it all. "Or want to share your oxygen or whatever. So, don't worry about it. Just go back to being poor in your basement or whatever."

Hyde grit his teeth, trying very hard to restrain himself. See, that's what being nice got him – nothing. "Fine," he said shortly. "Your wish is my command, princess." He turned and started to leave, pausing for a moment at the door to glance back at her. And, in that moment, he felt sorry for her. Like he had that night at the bar. Just the briefest flash of pity, quickly replaced by apathy. Much safer than feeling. Especially for someone like Jaclyn Burkhart who'd never felt anything for anyone that wasn't herself. (Why was Donna friends with her again?) Shaking his head, he left, muttering a quiet, "Whatever," under his breath as he went.

Watching him go, Jackie felt a mixture of emotions. Triumph because she'd definitely won this round. Disappointment that he didn't want to fight her back or apologize more. Annoyance with him for insulting her yet again. Mostly, though, a sinking feeling growing in the pit growing in her stomach. The sinking feeling that refused to let her forget what he'd said. Not the, "I hate you/Don't want to share your oxygen," stuff. That, she could take. Just another burn between them. (They really were good at those.) It was the other thing he'd said.

_"…go back to living in whatever la-la land you came from…"_

Over and over it played in her mind. Jackie's eyes welled with tears, and she sat back on her bed, willing them and the words to go away. "I can't," she murmured desperately as the first wave broke free and flowed down her cheeks. "I wish I could… God, do I wish… but I just _can't_." Because it wasn't real. And she knew that. None of it was. Her 'love' with Michael, her parents doting affection, her friends (except Donna and, maybe, Julie and Anna Marie), her entire life – none of it was real. And living it, living in la-la land… it was slowly driving her insane. Or, she thought with a hiccup of a laugh, maybe not that slowly.

Either way, she didn't know what to do. Except, cry until all her tears were gone. Donna came home, at some point during that process, but Jackie had locked her out. "Just giving myself a facial and doing girly things," she'd called through the door. "I'm not presentable. Go back and spend some time with Eric – you deserve it." And, after about a half hour of refusing to let her friend in, she'd relented and left and Jackie had returned to crying.

Eventually, though, the tears did die down. And, after a quick peek to confirm that she was indeed alone, Jackie made a beeline for the bathroom to clean herself up. It took a while but she managed. She was Jaclyn Burkhart, after all. Nothing could stop her from looking flawless, not even red, puffy eyes and mascara lines. And, if she told herself that enough times, she might just start to believe it. Everyone else bought the skin-deep package… why couldn't she?

After a momentary pause, Jackie decided some questions were better left unasked and returned to dealing with the one part of her life she _could_ control – her looks. If nothing else was going to be perfect, she would at least look like everything was. If for no other reason than to show Steven Hyde that he hadn't won. No, not this time. Jackie Burkhart was a formidable adversary and he would be rue the day he ever crossed her. Or, at least, be really, really sorry. Yeah. Definitely.

* * *

Reviews are loved. As in I love all of you who review. And, really, what else could be better than a writer's love? (Shh, just review, anyway.) 


	4. Saturday Night Special

**Author's Note: **All right, I know I said I wouldn't be posting but my amazingly wondrous beta got back to me with this chapter _just_ before I'm going to leave. Like, we're talking hours here. So, once again, YouThinkYouNoeMe, you are my hero! Also, many thanks to my reviewers. I love you all to pieces. Only note about this chapter are a special cameo by the infamous Chip. (I never saw his episode, though I've read the transcript, so I made up my description of how he looks.) And… yeah. I think that's it! Leaving in just a li'l more than three hours now and I have to finish packing still! Eep! Must be off! Enjoy!  
**Disclaimer: **Check chapter one, baby!

**Tarnished Gem**  
by, Caliente

**Chapter 4: Saturday Night Special**

"Are you sure you want to go?" Donna asked for the seventh time. It'd gotten old by the third. Now, it was just annoying. "Because there are a million other places to eat around here and I really don't think –"

"Can it Donna," Jackie commanded, hands on hips with indignation. "Look, I've heard you talk about The Hub for… well, forever! So we are going to The Hub. Simple as that." Her face darkened slightly, a determined look on it. "And, no, I don't care if Steven is there. He can go to hell for all I care." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Honestly, I just can't sit at home on a Saturday night and look this good. It'd be a crime." She smirked lightly at Donna before bouncing out the door. "So let's go already!"

Rolling her eyes, Donna followed her friend. "Fine! But don't say I didn't give you options, okay? And, remember, this isn't Madison…" Not that it mattered much. Jackie would've never been anywhere remotely similar to The Hub before in Madison or otherwise. This was the girl who'd once told her, 'Fast food is for poor people,' after all. An eatery like this place would just insult her, which was why it was so weird that it was her idea in the first place.

Jackie scoffed and gave her friend a _look_. "As if I could forget," she replied disdainfully. Shaking her head in the way that best accented her beautiful hair, she headed straight for the entrance.

Donna hurried to follow her, hoping to prevent any kind of… culture shock. Whether it would be for Jackie or the patrons of The Hub, she wasn't certain yet. Stepping inside, she nearly tripped over her friend who'd stopped to observe the scene with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Jackie it was. Donna looked at her, then around the room, then at her again. She seemed positively awed. It was… well, it was actually a bit unnerving, really.

"Donna," she said in a hushed voice, pulling the redhead closer to her, "they're just… hanging out. All of them. _Together_." The hanging out itself was not particularly remarkable, even people of Jackie's class and caliber were known to frequent establishments like this one, though much more upscale and posh, with friends and dates. But there was never such a… melding of the cliques. Here there were geeks and jocks and burn outs and… everyone around their age converging in one place. It was… amazing.

Jackie jumped slightly at the sound of a bell ringing and someone crying a loud, "ORDER UP!" from the window thingy. The spell lost, Jackie straightened and turned her expression to one of casual disinterest. Amazing as it was, they were still poor people from Point Place. No need for them to know she cared. At all. She tipped her nose up ever so slightly, just like Mother had taught her, and sauntered over to the nearest, cleanest empty table. She was aware of the eyes following her but she made a point to ignore them all. It added to her air of mystique while informing them she was out of their league.

Watching Jackie was, to Donna, like watching a master actress at work. One moment she was completely enraptured with… something about The Hub and the next she'd pulled her princess face on. It would actually be rather remarkable if it weren't so revolting. Instead of following her friend, she headed for the window and placed an order for two fries and two sodas, one diet as per the princess's preference. Food and drink in hand, she then headed for the table that half of the teenagers seemed completely enthralled by. The male half, that was. Typical.

Donna gave Jackie a look, which her friend returned defiantly, as she placed the diet drink and one of the baskets of fries in front of her. Then she rolled her eyes. "What?" Jackie asked innocently, demurely sipping her straw through her soda. Donna rolled her eyes again. "Oh, whatever. Can I help it if my beauty has turned them into drooling masses of hormones?" She smiled, obviously quite satisfied with herself. "I'm sure it's not every day a Madison elite graces their presences."

Unable to help herself, Donna snorted. Luckily, she wasn't drinking her soda when she did it. "Whatever you say Jackie," she replied, shaking her head. She might've said more, except two of the jocks she'd known at Point Place High School decided to invite themselves to join the girls.

"Hey ladies," a tall, blonde haired blockhead of a football player greeted, running his hand through his hair in a manner he must've thought quite attractive. Both girls felt rather repulsed by the display, though for different reasons. "What're two groovy gals such as yourselves doing alone on a Saturday night?" He smiled a winning smile. "Besides waiting for me, that is."

The other boy, a bit shorter and stockier with a mop of brown hair on his head and a dimwitted expression on his face, elbowed the first one. "Us, man," he hissed with an annoyed expression on his face. The first boy glared at him and he dropped it, turning to look at the girls again. "I'm Brick," he told them dumbly. "And this is Chip." He started to sit down before remembering his manners (obviously quite a feat for him). "Can we join you?"

Donna was prepared to put them in their place but Jackie's mouth was too quick for her. "Actually," Jackie's lip curled slightly as she looked at them, "we're waiting for our boyfriends to join us." Donna raised her eyebrows at the other girl, surprised she hadn't wanted to flirt while the boys blinked at her. That was positively… un-Jackie-like. "So, if you wouldn't mind leaving now…?" They still didn't move and she sighed with frustration. "Otherwise, when they come, they'll beat you up." The duo laughed at that comment, obviously unconvinced. "Oh would you just get lost!" she snapped, patience finally lost.

"Oh, come on baby," the one named Chip soothed, putting an arm around Jackie's shoulders, "you know you don't _really_ want us to go…" Brick started to do the same but the look Donna gave him told him if he did, she'd break his arm. And he'd known Pinciotti in high school – she could do it, man. Chip had no such reservations. His girl might be feisty but she was also tiny. He could take her, no problem. "Don't you want to have a good time…?" He leered at her.

Disgusted, Jackie pushed his arm off her and stood up, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "Look, I know I'm hotter than all the other girls in here," Donna raised her eyebrows again, suppressing a laugh – leave it to Jackie to compliment herself while she was offended, "but that doesn't give you the right to put your arms all over me." Honestly, she'd just wanted one night with her friend. Why was that too much to ask? "I told you to _go away_!" Chip looked amused and she glared at him. Hard. Then kicked him in the shin, even harder.

Chip leapt away, clutching his leg in pain. "Ow! Fuck!" he yelped, raising his hand as if to slap her. Only a larger person seemed to have stepped in front of her while he was distracted. Looking up, he saw some guy he vaguely remembered as being a burn out stoner back in high school. Hyde or something like that. He wasn't glaring at Chip, he didn't even look upset. He just stood there impassively. "Move man," Chip ordered angrily. "Someone's gotta put that _bitch_ in her place."

Sighing, Hyde shook his head lightly. "Oh no," he said in an emotionless tone, his expression never changing. He glanced at the ground for a beat, and then socked Chip square in the jaw. The boy went down like the dead weight he was and Brick, taking one look at Hyde, made a hasty retreat back to the jock table. Hyde rubbed his hand, shaking his head again. Always the dumb ones, man…

Eric, who'd been grabbing a corndog, blinked at the scene before him as he sidled up next to Donna and sat down. "Uh… why is there a guy passed out in front of Hyde?" he asked his girlfriend with a confused expression on his face. "We haven't even been here for five minutes yet, man."

Wordlessly, Donna just pointed to Jackie who was smiling up at Hyde like he was Donny Osmond. She opened her mouth but Hyde, who'd turned away from the doofus on the floor, cut her off. "Don't say it." She opened her mouth again. "I mean it. Don't say a word." She tried one more time but he held up his hands. "Not one word." Still smiling, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Okay, let's not do that, either…"

Ignoring him, she continued smiling up at him adoringly. He was like an afro-wearing, pork chop sideburned prince! "Thank you, Steven," she said quietly, a faint blush on her cheeks. No one had ever rescued her before. Not even Michael and he was supposed to be her fiancé! She felt like such a damsel… it was awesome. Not that she usually needed rescuing but these hicks were apparently more persistent then the men of Madison.

"Whatever," Hyde muttered, an uncomfortable look on his face. He gave the room a quick once over, noting the angry jocks in one corner and the irritated management in another. "I think maybe we should get out of here…" Eric and Donna nodded, standing quickly and the four of them left without another word. Hyde and Jackie both stepped on Chip's limp form on their way out, the latter with the heel of her tall boots. He deserved it at least that much.

* * *

"Yes!" 

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"_Yes_!"

"_No_!"

"Would you two please _shut up_!" Donna's cry cut through the bickering and the two parties turn to look at her with blank expressions on their faces. She glared at them as they continued to stare blankly at her. Finally, she threw her hands up in defeat, turned around again and leaned into her boyfriend's arm. If only there was some kind of divider between the front seat and the back in the Vista Cruiser. That'd be awesome. And then she wouldn't have had to listen to Hyde and Jackie argue about, well, everything since they'd arrived at the drive in. And Donna was left asking herself one, very important question: What happened to the blessed silence after The Hub!

The look on Donna's face forced her beau to suppress a sigh. Well, this sucked. He wasn't going to get any action at this rate. It was time to… take action of his own! Yeah! Like Luke would've if anyone got in the way of his love for Leia. Totally! "Yeah!" he agreed glancing back at them over his shoulder. "We're trying to enjoy this movie! And you two are… are… totally ruining the mood!" Okay, so it was more of a whine, really. But, well, whatever. What'd they really expect from Eric Foreman?

Jackie shot Eric a funny look (he was a bit of weirdo) then returned to glaring at Hyde. "Come on Steven," she encouraged in her sweetest voice. "You know you want to go get me some popcorn…" She looked up at him with a pout on her face and big doe eyes. "Please?" She bit her lip in a carefully calculated move. "Pretty please?" Sticking her lower lip out slightly, she bowed her head even lower and looked up at him with doe eyes. "With sugar on top…"

An incredulous look on his face (because there was no way this broad was serious); Hyde shook his head at her. "No," he said in a definitive voice. He ignored her further attempts to pout, holding his hand up. "And quit calling me Steven. It's Hyde. Hyyyyyyyddddddde. Say it with me now." He imitated a conductor with his right hand, patronizingly. "Hyde."

The pout was gone from Jackie's face, replaced by an expression that told everyone she clearly thought he'd grown a second (well, technically, third) head. She opened her mouth to object but one withering look from Donna told her she better not. In fact, maybe it was time to leave the two lovebirds alone and let them get a bit more alone time. She didn't want to be worrying for her life every time she closed her eyes, after all. "Oh give it up Steven," she replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her as she slid out of the Vista Cruiser. "Come with me, then," she demanded. He looked ready to argue, so she cut him off at the pass. "I don't know the way."

Hyde didn't miss the meaningful look in her eyes or her slight nod toward the car, but he still rolled his eyes at her. Stupid drama queen. They wouldn't even be in this mess if she'd kept her fat trap shut. Hell, he wouldn't have gotten into half the crap he'd gotten into this weekend if she could do that. But that seemed to be asking far too much where Jackie Burkhart was concerned. "Fine," he snapped, dropping her hand and taking fast steps toward the refreshments stand, not bothering to wait for her to follow. Honestly, he kind of hoped she wouldn't.

Wisely choosing not to say anything more at that juncture, Jackie's small legs struggled to keep up with Hyde's longer strides. Ugh! If she sweated because of him, she was so totally going to… to… kick him in the shins! Yeah. Then he'd be sorry. But, maybe this one time, she'd give him a pass. Since, well… he _had_ helped her out at The Hub earlier. And, even though their truce had already degenerated back into… whatever it'd been before, she could still appreciate the fact that he'd saved her twice now. Even if he was just a poor, scruffy _bartender_. (Who'd made her cry but that was officially a fluke in her mind.)

Attitude firmly in place, she marched after him with a bit more spring in her step. "I want Milk Duds, popcorn with butter and a diet soda," Jackie informed Hyde when they arrived at the stand. She handed him a ten dollar bill and smiled winningly at her would-be knight. "No sense in us both waiting in line, right?" Without batting an eyelash or waiting for a reply, she headed for the bathroom. To powder her nose, if anybody asked.

He didn't. Instead, he watched her go with obvious annoyance before taking her money and doing what she'd said. Not because she'd said it or had a good point, no. He did it because he wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as humanly possible. And, as appealing as it would be to ditch the rich bitch (heh), Donna would definitely kick his ass. Red heads, man. There was no messing with 'em. Not if you wanted to walk away unscathed, anyway.

"Can I help you?" the high school aged cashier asked in a bored tone, bringing him from his reverie. He could remember a time when his reveries about Donna weren't violence-related. Man, that had been a long time ago. The girl snapped her gum, as she looked at him expectantly.

Hyde glanced at the menu, then the ten dollars he was holding, and then the girl again. Linda, her tag said. "Uh, yeah. Can I get Milk Duds, a small popcorn with butter and a diet cola?" He smirked lightly. "And feel free to spit in any of that." Another glance at the menu and he added, "Oh and a hot dog and a regular soda. But don't spit on those, please. They're for me."

The girl Linda nodded, a knowing look on her face. Hyde definitely didn't like that look. "Argument with the little woman?" she asked rhetorically as she scurried about to prepare his order. Hyde's eyes narrowed in confusion then, after understanding dawned, widened with horror. "Can't say I blame you, looked bossy for such a small thing." She shook her head sympathetically.

Blinking, he tried to decide how many times this Linda chick must've been dropped on her head as a child. "Not… mine…" Hyde managed to choke out around his mortification. "She's just… a friend of a friend." At least once removed. Maybe ditching her wasn't such a bad idea, after all. Then she'd just be a friend of a friend of a friend…

Speak of the devil, quite possibly literally as far as Hyde was concerned, Jackie sidled up to him at just that moment. "Are those mine?" she asked with a smile. "Great. Thanks Steven." She gave him an awkward side hug, which he tried to lean out of as best he could. (Apparently Donna wasn't the only chick with freakish strength around here.) Plucking her items up, she smiled at both Hyde and the cashier. "Well, pay the girl already," she commented as if he was incredibly dim. "There are _other_ people waiting, you know."

Hyde shot her an irritated look before handing a smug Linda her money and picking up his hot dog. Without any regard for Jackie, he headed for the condiments. She followed like that stupid neighborhood dog that just wouldn't get lost. "New rule," he told her tersely. "You don't touch me. At all. Unless absolutely necessary." He stared her down. "You don't talk, either." Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it? She looked confused and maybe a little hurt but he really didn't give a crap. Stupid cashier girl. Stupid Jackie. Stupid Donna and Foreman needing 'alone time'. (God, the mental image.) He officially couldn't wait for this weekend to be over.

"Fine," she snapped at him after a long pause. "I was just trying to… whatever. I don't know why I bother." She glared at him. "I mean, you made me _cry_." She suddenly kicked him in the shin. "Jerk!" Her purchases still in hand, she took off back for the car. She didn't need his help. She didn't need anyone's help. She was Jackie Burkhart for God's sake. She had everything she could ever need, want or desire… at least, on the superficial level. And, if Mother had taught her anything (besides the best brands of vodka); it was that that was the only important level. God. Steven Hyde could just… just… jump off a cliff for all she cared! And she hoped he did, too.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't. He limped back to the car a few minutes later, still swearing under his breath. Short thing could kick too, damn her. Jackie was sure Hyde would yell at her or even try to hit her back but all he did was brush past her and slide into the back seat again. She eventually followed suit, though not without a few nervous but very angry glances in his direction. The two of them seethed together in a silence filled with enough tension to cut with a knife for the rest of the movie. In the front seat, Donna and Eric were blissfully oblivious to their presence… or anything else.

_To be continued…

* * *

_

Don't forget to drop me a line! I'm gonna need something to look forward too after the vacation of dooooom…


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